Killing Me Slowly
by xoxo.polarbears
Summary: She was the new WWE Diva. He was Randy Orton. Two completely different people, yet somehow exactly the same. What will happen when they befriend each other, only to find out that the very thing that brought them together, will slowly tear them apart?
1. First Impression

**So, I was going to wait to upload this story after my other was finished, but it had been consuming my mind for the last few days, and I decided, to Hell with it, and decided to upload it anyway. **

**And also, I really just wrote this because I was bored and the idea was on my mind, but I do have plans on continuing it. So if I get at least 4 reviews, I _will_ continue this story(:**

**Oh, and if I do get 4 reviews, I will put up a little detail thing in my profile explaining who my OC is, and her picture.**

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**First Impression**

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My feet were _killing_ me.

And no, I'm not talking about a little '_ow, I'm going to need a foot rub later from all this walking_'. I mean my feet are being rubbed raw, and are starting to form blisters. What's the cause of my feet's distress? Today was Summerslam Axxess, and don't get me wrong, it's really fun and all, but it's not the place to be wearing heels.

One should never do it. _Ever_. Especially when you _never_ wear heels, and your feet aren't use to them. I'm just thankful I haven't fell down yet.

I looked around the crowded space surrounding me. This was one reason I hadn't wanted to come. Sure, I am quite the social butterfly - but that was only when I wanted to be. Most of the time, though, I was quite anti-social. Unless I was with friends, of course. And that was the main reason I was here now - my friend.

I had always been a fan of wrestling, it was something I found really interesting. Because whether it was complete kayfabe, and the moves were all fake, it was _still _entertainment. That's what it was supposed to be right? The name was WWE: World Wrestling _Entertainment_. Emphasis on the entertainment part.

But despite being a huge fan, I still didn't feel the need to come to this event. The reason? In a few days time I would officially be a WWE Diva. That's right, Arianna Paige Beaumont, the one and only daughter of Tim and Janet Beaumont, will finally be living out her dream. Which is exactly why I didn't need to be here. Why should I? Soon I would be working with all these wrestlers, and I would be able to meet them when I showed up to Raw next week. So, instead of acting like a crazed fan-girl now, I should wait, so I don't look like a stalker when I _do_ show up at Raw.

I had come here for a friend, Emma Louise Grant. Emma herself is a big WWE fan, but unlike me, she wouldn't be becoming a WWE Diva. So, today I had promised to come with her to this occasion, just so we could spend some time together, before I left to be on the road.

But that promise seemingly went unnoticed, because as soon as we had gotten here, she had ran off; chasing after some wrestler named R-Truth. And honestly, I didn't like him. Sure, he could wrestle, but to me he was boring - not to mention annoying. And what was with his entrance music? '_Cause I can bust you like a pimple'_. Um, not to be rude, but that's just plain disgusting - _that_ is just a mental image I could have gone without. A shiver ran down my spine at just the thought of it.

A sudden blood-curdling scream snapped me from my inner thoughts, and as I glanced around me, I saw a young girl screaming at John Cena, who had just showed up in the ring that was set up for the wrestlers to hype up there matches this Sunday. I caught a glimpse of the girl's parents, red-faced, trying to get their daughter to calm down. I couldn't blame them though. Being in that kind of situation had to be embarrassing.

I made another examination of my surroundings, but there was nothing that special. The only things I could see were the usual; people walking around holding the replica championship belts, little kids wearing the WWE merchandise, and moms that were flirting with some of the wrestlers like no tomorrow.

My eyes came to rest on my best friend - had been since first grade. She was standing in line waiting to meet John Morrison. Or John Hennigan, I'm pretty sure he goes by both, I guess it all just depends on what floats your boat.

I made my way over to her, cutting in line in the process; which got me a few not-so-nice-words sent in my direction from the other people waiting. Oh well, it wont faze me.

"Hey, Emma," I bent over and slipped my shoes off. "Can you keep these in your bag? They hurt my feet." I scrunched up my face, and placed a pout upon my glossed lips.

"So you're just gonna, like, walk around barefoot for the rest of the day?" She raised an eyebrow at me, like I was a complete weirdo.

"Um, yeah?" I answered her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. But we had been friends long enough, she should know by now that I would never wear shoes if I could. I preferred to go barefoot, I loved feeling the breeze between my toes. Actually, no, I didn't, but that didn't matter at the moment.

She slipped the shoes into her bag, which no doubt already held loads of autographed pictures inside. "Well, since I did you a favor, you think you could do me one?"

I uttered out a sure, letting out a yawn in the process.

"Go get me a drink? I'm dying of thirst." Though she probably wasn't even that thirsty, considering she drank about three AMP energy drinks before we even got here.

"Fine. What do you want?"

"Um," She became deep in thought, though I couldn't see how it was that hard to think of something to drink. "How about a cherry snow cone, some water.." She paused for a moment, thinking again, before she continued. "Ooooh, and how about a hot dog?"

I stared at her, my lips pursed, and my brows raised. "I thought you said you just wanted something to drink?"

"Well, I figured while you were there you could grab me something to eat, too." She shrugged, sounding all too innocent.

I smiled at her nodding my head understandingly, before I looked back up. "So, a bottle of water then?"

I turned away from her, making my way towards the small concession stand that was selling a variety of things, which included drinks. I hadn't gotten very far when I heard Emma yelling at me.

"Ugh," I could almost sense the small pout on her lips. "You're so mean to me," Her voice was high-pitched, and sounded way too mouse-like.

I smiled to myself, before I stepped in line, waiting to place my order. My foot began to tap impatiently; I wasn't one that usually waited. Maybe that's why I haven't done shit at this event at all today?

"Excuse me, lady?"

I glanced up noticing the line the was in front of me had vanished, I quickly stumbled forward. "Two bottles of water, please." We exchanged money and drinks.

I turned back, looking back in the direction of where Emma used to be. The only problem was that she wasn't there anymore. As much as I loved my best friend, she was beginning to piss me off. I blew a colorful strand of hair out of my face, sighing.

I walked in the direction she used to be in a huff. I stopped in the middle of a crowd of people, and began to look around, my nostrils flaring. The crowd soon thinned out, and I still hadn't spotted her.

I began walking around aimlessly, when I stumbled upon a group of girls - who I, if I didn't know any better, would have thought were mannequins, or even life size Barbie's. They were surrounding someone, and I could tell by the distraught in his voice, he wasn't very excited about being surrounded.

Finding the inner bitch in me, I shoved my way through the wall of girls, and grabbed onto the man's arm. "Excuse me ho's, but I think you should leave now. It's quite obvious the man isn't interested." I gave them a smile, that was no doubt bitchy. They gaped at me, as if they couldn't believe I had just said that to them. "Did you not hear me? Shoo-shoo," I waved my hand out in front of me, gesturing that they needed to back away. I heard a chuckle come from the guy behind me, as the girls - or Barbie's, whichever you preferred - began to walk away muttering, "What a bitch."

"Well, thanks."

I whirled around, "It was no pro…blem," I finished. I was looking right into the eye's of Randy Orton. I was intimidated, I think anyone would be in this situation. Yeah, Randy only played a character on television, but judging by the rumors on the internet, he didn't exactly have the greatest attitude - inside the WWE or outside.

"I'm Randy Orton," He sent me his famous smirk, holding out his hand.

I took it, but I never told him my name. I wasn't sure why not, but I didn't. "I know. It's nice to meet you," I brought my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun.

"Thirsty much?" I looked down in my arms, following his gaze, as he gestured towards the water bottles.

"Oh, yeah," I glanced back up at him. "One's for a friend, but she's disappeared on me."

I saw him look down. "Um," He let out a slight chuckle as he scratched his eyebrow.

I caught on quickly, rushing out, "Oh, my feet hurt. You see I wore high heels so-"

"That's not exactly the smartest thing one can do."

I shook my head, agreeing with him, a smile playing on my lips. "No, I guess it isn't."

He pointed over my shoulder, "I think someone wants you?" I glanced back, and caught a glimpse of Emma waving me over.

"Yeah, that's my friend." I paused, and an awkward silence followed. "So, bye." I gave a slight goodbye wave and smile, before I began to back away.

I hadn't got very far when I heard him call after me. "Hey! I don't believe I caught your name?"

I barely even thought about what I was going to say in reply, when I yelled back. "I don't believe you were supposed to?"

I jogged over to wear Emma stood, staring at me, mouth agape. I threw her a water. "You were talking to Randy Orton," She pointed towards the spot me and him had been talking, and where he was now signing an autograph for a slutty looking girl. Wow, I was so judgemental. I'd have to make a mental note to work on that, otherwise, I might not make any friends as a WWE Diva.

"Yeah, I was."

"But that's _Randy Orton_." Her eyes grew wide. "_The_ Randy Orton. The guy who is a complete dick, an asshole even. And _you_ were _talking _to him."

"Emma you can't believe everything you here, and he was nice." Although, he probably had to be nice. This was all for the fans, and if that's who he really was, I'm sure he wasn't allowed to show it.

But considering I would be working on the same brand with him in the coming weeks, I think my first impression didn't go too bad.

The question was...would there be a second one?

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**Did you like it? Yes/No?**

**Don't forget to review if you want me to continue.**

**(:**


	2. Stare Down

**Thanks to: **_Breakingdawn105_**, ** **, **_UnfablousANS16_**,**** and **_xDarexToxDreamx_ **for reviewing the last chapter(:**

**This would have been up a while ago, but a family issue popped up.**

**Also, Arianna's picture and profile thing are now up, so go check it out. If you want to, that is.**

**But anyways, on with the 2nd**** , and don't forget to leave some feedback(:**

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**Stare Down**

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I tugged at the hem of my shirt, glaring in the direction of the bathroom. Emma had been in there for the past hour and needless to say, I was getting impatient. But I couldn't say I was surprised; she always spent hours upon hours 'perfecting' her hair. I heard the blow dryer come on for the fifth time this evening.

"Ugh!" I fell backwards onto the bed, throwing my arms out on either side of me. Part of me felt like cussing her out. But the other part knew that would only distract her, which in turn, would only make her take longer. And that just _sucks_. "Hurry your ass up, we don't have all day!"

"The day's already almost over, it's evening now, so it doesn't really matter." I watched as she stepped from the bathroom, running her fingers through her light brown hair. She walked over to her bed and began rummaging through her purse. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

_You_.

I shook my head quickly, not giving in to the urge to mutter that. I shrugged, standing up. I grabbed my shoes off the floor and proceeded to slip them over my feet.

Emma walked over to me, applying a fresh coat of lip gloss. She held the tube out to me, "Want some?"

I shook my head vigorously, scrunching my face up at the thought of using _used_ lip gloss. "Um, no thank you."

She rolled her eyes at me, mumbling a "Whatever," before she shoved it back into her bag. She scrutinized my choice of clothing tonight, giving me a quick once over. "Would it kill you to dress up for once?"

"Yeah, it would, actually."

She glanced down at my ballet flats, contorting her face by crinkling her nose. "Well, you could at least wear some heels."

I groaned. "Why? No one's going to be seeing my feet on television. They'll be hidden by the barrier."

She silently stared, begging me with her eyes to change clothes.

I gritted my teeth, "No." Before the word even left my mouth she reached for my shoes, ripping them off my feet. I stared at her mouth agape. "I was wearing those, you know?"

She sauntered back over to her bed, shrugging indifferently. She removed a pair of black heels from her now unzipped suitcase, before making her way back over to me. "And now you're wearing these." She smiled, holding the shoes out for my taking.

I snatched them away from her, officially hating the fact me and Emma shared the same shoe size. Slipping them over my feet, a string of swear words left my mouth in a big mumbling mess.

"Hey!" She protested, "Watch your mouth."

"It's not like you watch yours," I stood up, letting out a deep breath. "Lets go."

She grabbed my bag from the floor and threw it at me. "Alright," She slung her own bag over her shoulder and left the room.

I followed her, shutting off the lights and closing the door behind me.

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I plopped down into the steel chair that was associated with front row seats. Emma handed me the drink she had bought and sat down beside me. I reached down and slipped my shoes off, which earned me a glare from my best friend.

She sighed and turned away from me, turning her attention to the wrestling ring in front of us. "You're so weird, Ari."

"Oh, gee, thanks for that confidence boost." I rolled my eyes at her.

The show started in a few minutes and I wasn't even all that excited. I was only here because Emma had invited me. Truth is, I would rather be watching at home on television. Then I could have the commentary, high definition, and all the cool camera angles to see _all_ of the action. But oh well. It doesn't matter. I'm here, and there's nothing I can do to change that now.

I listened as the Diva's theme played throughout the arena. A 15-diva battle royal was kicking things off tonight. Un-televised. Oh, and lookie there. They're in swimsuits. And just to think, that will be me in a few weeks. Prancing around in a bikini, hoping that there won't be any wardrobe malfunctions. I was hoping the same thing now.

Wrestling flashed before my eyes, match after match, victory after victory, loss after loss. There were nine matches on tonight's card, and now that eight of them had come and gone, it was time for the main event. This had to be the only match that I had any interest in watching.

I glanced over at Emma, who was flushed from screaming so much. She had been cheering for everyone that she was a fan of, which was pretty much all of the superstars.

"Voices" blared over the loud speakers, and Randy Orton proceeded to walk to the ring. I sighed, boredom overtaking me as I watched him take step after grueling step in the slowest mannerism possible.

Glancing over at my best friend for what seemed like the millionth time that night, I caught her rolling her eyes - which was most likely directed at me.

Tearing her eyes away from the ring in front of her, she glanced at me. "You're such a party-pooper!"

I suppressed the sudden urge to giggle. Despite being a college graduate, and in the midst of running her own clothing store, Emma was always so immature when it came to her vocabulary. One would think she would at least try to act sophisticated, but I guess being a 25 year old wrestling fan won't really help you be serious and professional all the time.

We both turned our attention back to the action in the ring, which had started as soon as Edge had entered the ring. After a couple near pinfalls, Randy finally had his hand raised in victory after hitting the RKO on an unsuspecting Edge.

I stood up, taking one final glance at the ring, only to notice the winner of the match staring right at me.

Randy Orton's blue eyes, settled into and ice cold stare, aimed directly at _me_. I couldn't fathom why, as I hadn't thought he would even remember me. It's not like I had made a lasting impression at the Summerslam Axxess.

I stared back, my own brown eyes locking with his. The stare down was only broken apart when - simultaneously - Emma smacked me slightly signaling time to go, and for Randy when the referee told him he needed to leave the ring.

Still unsure of the reasoning behind "The Viper's" stare, I just continued walking, trying to push it to the back of my mind. But no matter how much I tried it just couldn't seem to leave me alone. And while I knew nothing about Randy Orton's life, for that brief moment our eyes had locked, I felt like they had been the windows to his soul. It was like I could sense all the pain, heartbreak, suffering, and everything else he had been through in his. It frightened me, yet intrigued me at the same time.

But one thing was for sure. Come next Monday, on Raw. I was bound to run into him, and I absolutely _dreaded_ it.

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